


Full Circle

by Khateeah, OKami_hu



Series: A Group of Dragons is a Clan [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bonding, Brotherly Love, Cyborgs, Dragons, Elemental Magic, First Time, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Nostalgia, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex, Shimadacest, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Spirit Animals, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7408807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khateeah/pseuds/Khateeah, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanzo seeks Genji out shortly after “Dragons” with a little help from Tracer and Zenyatta. Reunited in a place sacred to them both, the brothers get reacquainted as they set off down the path to healing from their past together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfic-style RP between @Khateeah (Genji, Tracer) and @OKami_hu (Hanzo), written in paragraph round-robin style. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Peace._ In his youth, peace had been little more than an abstract; a long-sought state of being for those afflicted by struggles Genji had never known.  
  
He’d been naive, then.  
  
As so often tended to be the case, hindsight revealed to him a different side of reality - laid bare the ominous undercurrent that preordained the tragedy that had turned his world inside out and robbed from him everything he’d ever loved. He’d known too well the nature of his family’s legacy; the cruelty, the ruthlessness that permitted him to lead a life nestled firmly in the lap of luxury. But that was Hanzo’s gig - not his.  
  
He’d always taken comfort in the fact that it was Hanzo who had been born first, destined by ironclad tradition to succeed their father as head of the Shimada Clan. There had never been any doubt that Hanzo was better suited to the task - and Genji had been glad for it.  
  
He never imagined it would end like this.  
  
Genji sighed softly, the sound tinged by the characteristic warble of his electronically augmented vocal chords. The inhale that followed was deep, nourishing; the sweet, heady scent of pollen that filled him, carried him wistfully back to a time that peace hadn’t mattered - for then, it was all he’d known.  
  
He never could have dreamed he’d end up returning here as he was now - a cyborg, seated atop the same towering boulder he and Hanzo had romped beneath as boys lost in a world of imagination all their own. Genji allowed his nostalgia to wash over him as heavily lidded eyes traced over the crisp lines of his hands, his crossed legs, gleaming softly in the silver-hued moonlight that filtered through the canopy of pink petals above. The lights of his suit were off, his night-vision disabled. Though at last he’d come to accept his new form as a gift, it was at times like these that he wished, if only for a moment, to experience the resplendent beauty of these woods as he’d done in his youth - as a man, no more and no less.  
  
Much as Hanzo had taken up the ritual of visiting Shimada Castle year after year, Genji had cultivated a similar habit of his own, visiting the grounds of their former summer home beneath the shade of Mount Fuji. It had been at Zenyatta’s urging that he’d come here again at last, after so many long years, to indulge the blissful, happy memories he’d forged in this place. The omnic had always sensed the deep, profound love Genji had for his older brother, even through his darkest hours. And he’d encouraged him to embrace it - to cherish the memories they shared when their lives had been simple. Peaceful.  
  
As was the way of the world, Genji surmised his presence here signified in a way that he’d come full-circle. From the serene, carefree days of his youth to his near-death at the hands of his brother, to a tranquil acceptance of his reality; his fate. He could only hope that someday Hanzo would come to share his peace.  
  
_Hanzo_ … the name lilted across his mind, borne upon deeply carved currents of love and passion, grief and sorrow. Genji would have done anything in that moment to look into his brother’s eyes again, to wilt beneath the force of the adoration and loyalty they’d shared as he’d done so many times before.  
  
“ _Anija_ …” the word, nothing more than a whisper, passed his lips before he was aware he’d spoken at all. He yearned for his brother - his rough voice, his piercing gaze, his powerful, protective embrace. It was difficult to imagine he’d ever experience those things again. It had been months since Genji had revealed himself at last, on the tenth anniversary of the day he should have died. He’d given Hanzo a choice that night, held out hope that he would take the opportunity to heal, to forgive himself and to let go of the futile hope for a better past.

Yet with each day that passed, Genji’s hope wore thin.

Summer blossoms and leaves floated on the breeze that carried sweet scents. The same stars that witnessed the struggle of the dragon brothers many years ago have gazed upon them still, silently observing their plight. Currently, that of Genji’s was subdued, contained; reigned with restrains forged of hope. Thus, the stars set their sights elsewhere, on the other dragon whose anguish was still raw, writhing inside his mighty chest like a wounded beast.

Hanamura’s streets were well-lit; one could barely see the stars from the artificial glow. Hanzo still found himself staring upwards, sometimes even climbing structures to be closer to the sky as if the twinkling lights had an answer for him. He loathed to admit, but he’d lost course. Where he had been so adamant and sure of himself, Hanzo now felt confused, helpless, betrayed, angry and a whole lot of other things that were too much to handle. He roamed his hometown’s streets restlessly, his rich robe replaced by more concealing Western style clothes.

The entire town was filled with memories. Every corner and every other shop once bore witness to a moment of his life. He could easily picture himself and Genji running wild, laughing - or, as it had been, arguing - over something, being careless and reckless. Hanzo stopped at Genji’s favorite arcade, wondering if it ever happened at all. It had been so long. Maybe all those pictures crammed into the back of his mind were nothing but a trick played on him by his wishful heart.

His brother was dead.

Hanzo’s chest still flared up with a dull ache and he clenched his right hand, unable to stop himself from glancing at it, expecting to see crimson smeared on his skin. Sometimes he still glimpsed it and it burned. When he didn’t, there was still a chill lapping at his insides and he entered a shop for hot ramen to chase it away. At the first taste, he realized that he never liked this particular flavor. It had been Genji’s favorite.

That meeting at the castle, it was tearing him apart. Hanzo couldn’t find a moment’s peace ever since, his mind was pulled so taut with dread and hope both. He missed Genji so fiercely, every single day. The offerings were just a physical manifestation of his grief.

He had never planned to raise his sword against his kin. He never wanted to see him fall. He- never checked the body for signs of life; he stayed far away and ran like a coward, tears clouding his vision, head spinning, heart drumming furiously while a voice screamed in his mind: “I killed my brother, I killed him, he is no more.”

The hope that surged up within him as the stranger revealed himself to be Genji was overwhelming. For a single moment, Hanzo thought he finally made it, that he’d be absolved from his sin. The next moment, however, an equal amount of doubt flooded him: he was being played with. That- creature couldn’t be his brother. Someone was trying to play a trick, luring him into a trap. His suffering was not meant to end this easily.

But hope is a resilient critter, much like a roach. Hanzo roamed the streets, restless like a hungry beast, and the burning urge to meet ‘Genji’ again was consuming him.

Whatever force was in charge of his Fate that evening, it decided to throw him a bone. The messenger wasn’t deadly silent, silver and steel-gray with glowing green accents; but instead a whirlwind of beige and orange and girlish giggles. Hanzo spun around in alarm as the lightning-fast female circled him, then they came to a standstill - he in a battle stance, she on her tiptoes, hands locked behind her back and a bright smile on her face.

“Who are you?” Hanzo questioned, although he had a vague recollection of her from the news he’d seen a lifetime ago.

“Tracer here! Nice to meet you, Mr. Shimada!” She bowed dramatically, trying to recall how Genji had done it when she’d picked his brain about Japanese culture during the time she’d spent with him at Gibraltar. But she didn’t pay the gesture too much mind - she had a task to complete, a message to deliver.  
  
She’d been told to expect the cold shoulder, so as per the usual, speed would prove to be her asset. She never gave him a chance to speak before she continued. “A _little sparrow_ told me Genji’s been spending a lot of time mulling about your family’s old holiday haunt lately. And word has it he’s been missing you, too.”  
  
Tracer’s grin brightened as she gave the niggling nervousness at the edges of her mind a firm shove out of the way. She knew Hanzo was an assassin, one of the best in Japan if rumor held true. But she was on a mission - a mission to bring Genji back into the fold, and according to her source, Hanzo Shimada had a key role in assisting his recall.  
  
It was up to her to get Hanzo to play along.

It had been Zenyatta who had sought her out amidst growing word of unrest across the world. He confirmed what Winston had already told her - that Overwatch might prove integral once again in quelling the troubles that stirred between humans and the omnics, and that an effort had commenced to recall the agents of Overwatch’s past. Genji, apparently, had refused. He was adamant that he’d done his part - dead-set on maintaining his nomadic lifestyle, wandering in search of some unknown salve to soothe the open wounds in his heart. Yet it was he, the ultimate fusion of human and machine, that could prove to play a key role in shaping the turbulent times to come.

The omnic monk, who had apparently encountered Genji some years ago as he roamed the world after his departure from Overwatch; had taken him under his tutelage and helped him come to terms with the doubts that plagued him. Tracer had always wondered after Genji once they’d parted ways - how he’d come to inhabit the body of a cyborg, what troubled him so deeply and so obviously - though he made his best effort to hide it. Of course, she’d never pressed the issue, not after her first and only inquiry had been met with a dark, cold rebuttal from Genji that chilled her to the bone. She’d been shocked, having never known Genji to be anything but warm and kind - she could tell if they’d met on more casual terms, they’d have been fast friends. So when he shut her down as ruthlessly as he had, she knew that whatever it was that haunted him must have been positively dreadful indeed.  
  
She never expected to receive the answers to her old, all-but-forgotten questions through the mysterious omnic, hailing from the Shambali monastery in Nepal. She was glad to hear Genji had spent time there - if anyone needed a bit of meditation, she figured it was probably him. But it wasn’t long until their conversation turned dark, and Zenyatta filled her in on the missing details of Genji’s story. Tracer had known a bit about Genji’s checkered past - that he was a Shimada, and that something had happened to put him at odds with his family, so much so that he’d agreed to seek them out and dismantle the criminal empire they’d presided over for centuries. What she didn’t know was that Genji had an older brother - Hanzo - and that Hanzo had tried to kill Genji in his pursuit of power; a violent massacre that left Genji broken and on death’s door.  
  
It had all begun to make sense, then, and Tracer understood at last the true reason behind Genji’s brooding unrest that simmered beneath the surface of his sweet, clever personality. It wasn’t as simple as hatred, or bitterness, or resentment towards the horrific tragedy he’d suffered - no, the deepest source of Genji’s pain was that he still loved his brother - missed him desperately, if Zenyatta was to be believed - and she found no reason to doubt the monk’s sincerity. They’d apparently been quite close as boys, forced apart as time passed on - as Hanzo worked tirelessly to fulfill his blood-bound duty while Genji chased his freedom.

Zenyatta’s worries stemmed from the fact that although Genji had come to terms with the massively altered state of his physical being, he still nursed wounds that festered; ate away at his spirit, his resolve, day after day. He’d lost himself once again, it seemed - and this time, he needed to confront a different, deeper agony that Zenyatta simply couldn’t heal. This time, the key to Genji’s healing laid in Hanzo’s hands alone. 

“He visits around this time every year, while the sakuras are in bloom,” she quipped, hoping she remembered the proper name for the resplendent blossoming trees so quintessential to Japan. “Dunno how long he’ll be hanging around, but I’ve got a feeling he’d fancy catching up!”

Hanzo, obeying his first instinct, bared his teeth at her. The girl’s cheerful attitude grated on his nerves, especially how she used Genji’s name and the childhood endearment only the Shimadas were allowed to utter.

“You…” he snarled, narrowing his eyes, but his ingrained politeness prevented him from just lashing out. He had met his fair share of warrior women, some as ruthless and cruel as the fabled tengu spirits, but - well, at least this one wasn’t attacking on sight.

Moreover, her name - designation - did ring a bell. Hanzo’s fighting stance eased up a breath, though he was still wary. “You - you’re part of that team. The - Overwatch.” The strike force’s reputation had been a good one during and after the Omnic Crisis. Hanzo had been little when it all started, and still young when it was declared over, but an impressionable young mind absorbs hero tales like a sponge and keeps the details to ripe age. Hanzo - and Genji - used to watch news reporting stunning heroics from all over the world, and Overwatch did visit Japan on occasion, when trouble was brewing.

“Is Gen- is he with you? What do you want from me?” In the past years, he had dealt with plenty of  suspicious contracts, shady dealers and people who tried to use him to their advantage. They might have figured out his weak spot - programmed an Omnic with sound enough intel and they were attempting to lure him in.

“Well, he’s not with me - with us - but he… he used to be.” Tracer stammered, her words tumbling from her mouth even faster than they usually did. Given the nature of Genji’s first mission with Overwatch after his cyberization, she decided it would be best to go light on the details. “That was before he left, wandered the world on his own. He shacked up in Nepal for a titch.”  
  
Tracer paused a moment before breathing a soft sigh. She could see that Hanzo was unsettled beneath his wary facade, and his suspicious words had confirmed it. “I don’t want anything from you, Mr. Shimada.” Her eyes softened behind her goggles, and she took a cautious step closer. “I knew Genji. We were stationed together once, at an Overwatch facility some eight years ago.” She paused; keen, wide eyes carefully appraising the archer’s face. “He misses you. He missed you then, and he misses you now.”

“He’s a fool for doing so,” Hanzo murmured before he could catch himself. He knew she could see the pain in his eyes though; she was the type to watch the eyes, not fooled by the neatly trimmed beard that drew attention to the mouth and, in addition, to one’s words. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up to stand straight and looked directly at the girl, acknowledging her with a short but proper bow. “I see. You have delivered your message, Miss Tracer, now we must depart.”

_The old summer home, huh? Figured._

“Right! Seeya!” Tracer didn’t bother to hide the grin that lit her features as she blinked off and out of sight. She was excited to return to Zenyatta - she didn’t need to skip time to know her mission had been a success.

 

***

 

Shiraito Falls.

Genji could feel the whipping currents of air propelled towards him by the crashing water of the falls all around him. The sensation was mute, though - starved of minute yet precious nuance. He missed the feeling of countless tiny drops of chilled water pelting his skin; drenching him, inviting him to fall back and submerge himself completely in the clear water below. Standing almost directly beneath the falls’ most powerful flow, Genji shut his eyes out of habit, noting coldly that the autonomic response was no longer necessary as it had been so long ago. Indeed, it was one thing of many that he no longer required.

The diminished physical experience of the falls themselves was the least of Genji’s worries. There was a magic here that he felt strongly as ever, threaded into the fabric of the earth itself, and the water that carved its way through her depths. A magic that hadn’t hesitated to awaken the slumbering spirits that resided in Genji and Hanzo both the first time they’d set foot in this place - an irrefutable call to unity, the completion of a symbiotic cycle flowing through them from the moment they’d been born.

It had been perfect.

Gentle touches - the brush of a hand, the soft rustle of clothing as their steps fell in line just a little bit closer, their contact made electric by the dominating, alluring pull of the falls. Led by the languid crescendo of rushing water through the trees, the brothers had wondered upon its resplendence, intoxicated with awe at the unnamed power that gripped them both. Not a single question had troubled their minds as hands danced to life of their own accord - seeking, exploring, knowing. Their bodies followed, stripped bare and glistening with the cool, quenching spray floating sweetly from the falls to soothe flushed and heated skin.

Before, Genji hadn’t fully understood the power that resided in them both, the dragon spirits that lived and breathed within every last cell of their bodies. To him, they’d been always two halves of an abstract whole, an untold power whose true potency remained hidden.

After that night, the power of the dragons had never been so clear.

Shielded eyes blinked open, drinking in the shimmer of pale moonlight glancing upon the cascading ripples that blanketed the surface of the pool beneath the falls. Though he’d been returning to this place for years, the pain of his markedly solitary presence never faded. Genji mused it was the falls’ way of punishing him for daring to set foot on its grounds without the company of his kindred spirit.

He would never learn. He couldn’t stay away.

The change was sudden and subtle, but Genji’s natural warrior instincts combined with the perfectly calibrated cyborg perception noticed the faint ripple of power in the air. Not to mention the soft steps that approached - even the constant roar of the waterfalls couldn’t completely mask the faint sound of armored feet, no matter how skilled and how well-padded they were.

The dragon inside Genji reacted a split second sooner than him, writhing in elation. It was only natural it sensed its counterparts; dragons were creatures of harmony and they strived for wholeness. The feeling was much like last time, back at the castle.

The Shimada heir had arrived.

He never presented a more regal sight than right then, standing atop the surrounding cliffs, bathed in moonlight. Hanzo held his head high and his eyes were unblinking despite the faint spray of water raining on him. The breeze playfully tugged at his hair-tie and robe. He seemed relaxed, expression unreadable as he studied the cyborg.

Hanzo felt the same currents emanating from the entire place. It always spoke to him - as a child, he waited every summer trip to the family’s getaway trembling with excitement. The magic hadn’t faded though he avoided the area stubbornly; the bittersweet memories made here would have been too much. Coming back made him ache with a deep, dull throbbing pain, but unexpected joy as well. His own dragons swirled underneath the surface, longing for the same closeness they once shared with their brethren. Over the years, much like their master, they became weapons, and little more. Now, awakened by the revelation, they strained at their boundaries.

Hanzo took a deep breath and steeled himself. During the trip here, he did everything to quench his hopes; he was an irredeemable sinner, after all. He never expected it to be so hard.

He tilted his chin up at the cyborg and leapt. Once on the ground, he lunged into a dash, away from the waterfalls, for dryer ground, where the memories were less likely to cloud his judgment.

Genji felt himself trembling, his mind reeling in stunned confusion as his eyes confirmed what both his body and heart had felt. For a moment he simply watched his brother move, the man’s sheer power and grace evident in the flow of his long, speedy strides. But as the distance widened between them, the fading of Hanzo’s aura sent a bolt of fear through Genji’s heart. Without thinking he dashed after his brother, his body slicing through the air clear over the pool to close the gap between them almost instantly.

“Hanzo!” Genji shouted, his voice rough with unrestrained emotion. “Stop!” He felt Hanzo’s shame, his trepidation. He knew his brother was overwhelmed by the power here, just as Genji had been the first time he’d come to this place in his new form. But it wasn’t just the simple influence of the earth’s forces here that Hanzo had to contend with - the cyclical flow of their spirits had commenced, an infinite spiral of attraction pulling the opposing forces between them into perfect balance.

“How… why… have you come here?” He made no effort to conceal the clash of tension and giddiness, confusion and excitement that drew his voice taut as a bowstring. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d encounter Hanzo in this place. After their last meeting, he’d been certain Hanzo wanted nothing more than to forget he still lived; to continue leading a wanderer’s life, far and away from the agonizing reality that wore away at him day after day, year after year.

Yet it wasn’t so. Genji supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that their paths would cross once again at this magical place, the place that had witnessed - nay, catalyzed - their realization of the true power and potential of their sacred connection.

Unbidden tears prickled at his eyes as he gazed at his brother’s back, the way his muscles had tensed beneath the swath of exposed skin over his shoulder as he slid to a halt on the damp, lush grass. Hanzo was beautiful, more so even than in his youth, and Genji couldn’t help but fall captive to the magnificence of his brother’s physical form. The years had graced Hanzo with the fruits of countless hours of hard work, the rigorous and grueling physical strain he took upon himself having shaped him into the picture of prowess and strength.

“Is that not what you wanted of me?” Hanzo finally turned to look at his brother. No one had the power or technology to recreate the unique soul-bond of the Shimadas; the cyborg was Genji, or had been, anyway. There was no doubt. Hanzo couldn’t look at him for long - he tore his gaze away, watching the river instead.

The Falls lured many a tourist and visitor and a paved road was built long ago for their convenience, leading to the pond fed by the cascades. The water rushed toward lower ground as a river which had a bridge arching over it. They stopped almost underneath the structure, far enough so the soothing noise of the falls was dimmed, allowing conversation at a normal volume.

“The quick girl told me that I might find you here,” Hanzo murmured. “I checked the summer home first… Then I remembered this place.” The sorrow that settled on his shoulders nearly dragged him to his knees. He felt so heavy. He wished for nothing more than to embrace his little brother, to finally cry a little - he hadn’t cried for years. But his arms refused to lift.

“Do you… remember what happened here?” Half the tale was known to most Shimadas and their associates; the other half remained the brothers’ closely guarded secret. One way to make sure that it was at least Genji’s mind underneath that armor.

" _Anija_..." A sob caught in Genji’s throat at the question as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. The question had caught him off-guard, and he felt vulnerable; raw. "How could I forget...?"  
  
Did Hanzo truly believe he could have simply forgotten the night they'd shared here that had changed them forever? The night that had seen the completion of a union, the extraordinary realization that they were not two separate souls, but one?  
  
"Hanzo." Genji stepped closer, eyes fixated on his brother’s distant gaze, wilfully entranced by the river's flow. He drank in the pained crease of Hanzo's brow etched deeply, permanently upon his hardened features, and the frown that seemed so at home on his face. Did Hanzo doubt him, even as the spirits inside them rioted within? Genji knew beyond all doubt that Hanzo felt it too. Desperate, he lifted trembling hands to the rear of his head, depressing the latches that held his faceplate in place with a soft hiss.  
  
"Look at me. Look at me and tell me how you believe I could forget what happened here!" Genji's voice had raised nearly to a shout, tearful eyes wide and burning with the insult of his brother's question - his accusation.

The tone struck a chord. Hanzo’s eyes immediately snapped up, lips parting, a hand lifting, almost reaching out to console, to apologize. Those who knew Hanzo intimately were aware of how easy he was to read. He could never school his features once his emotions intensified. Right now, he looked heartwrenchingly pained.

“Genji…” he choked, the dragons tugging at him, howling to rejoin their kin but ten years of guilt and wounds which had never been treated anchored Hanzo to the spot. The tension escalated rapidly, until something inside him snapped like a bowstring pulled beyond its limit. With a howl, he backed away, arms held up in defense.

“Why did you have to come back?” Hanzo shouted, eyes nearly glowing from the storm that raged inside. “I thought you were dead, I thought I killed you! You have no idea how it pained me! I exiled myself, seeking redemption, death, and you come back and haunt me! You are Genji, but you’re not the Genji I knew! How can you say you’ve forgiven me?! I struck you down in cold blood, I don’t deserve your forgiveness!”

Genji bore his brother's surge of anger, a tsunami of long-repressed emotions that crashed over him; would have threatened to sweep him away and drown him in their icy chill had he not come prepared. But he had - or so he thought.

“I came back because I love you.” His voice was calm, his timbre even. The grief that had wracked him only moments ago had faded to the background, forced aside by necessity. He could see the pain, the misery in his brother's eyes, burning into him and warring with his own agony.

“Tell me, Hanzo. If I am not the Genji you knew, who am I?” His expression was blank, but there was a fire in his eyes that mirrored every bit of the smouldering ire in his brother’s gaze. He paused briefly, but spoke again before Hanzo could answer his question. “You're right - I don't know the pain of living with the knowledge that I murdered my own brother. The pain I know is greater, _anija_ \- far greater.

“I know the pain of watching my brother bear down upon me, his blade drawn and guided by his rage; his insatiable hunger for power. I know the pain I felt the moment I realized my own brother truly meant to kill me; that he wouldn't stop until he'd ended my life. I know the pain of hopelessness, the knowledge that each blow I parried only meant I was that much closer to the one that would strike true.” Genji’s voice had begun to quake, trembling beneath the agony of the gruesome, heartbroken memories that flooded his mind.

“I know the pain of your blade cutting through my flesh, over, and over again. I know the pain of watching my own blood, _so much blood_ , pouring from my wounds, yet you were undeterred. It only made you want more, didn't it? You enjoyed your victory. You enjoyed watching me suffer, watching me pay the price for my insolence at last!” Fresh tears fell freely from Genji's eyes, streaking down heavily scarred cheeks before splashing against the synthetic material encasing what remained of his body. His strength was faltering, but he clenched his fists and stood tall nonetheless.

Genji’s voice lowered to a growl, the sound made almost eerie by the metallic distortion from the vocalizer in his throat. “No, Hanzo - you don't deserve my forgiveness. And yet you have it.”

He could have been throwing shurikens instead of accusations, Hanzo would have reacted the same. Each word made him flinch as if stabbed, eyes widening and filling with so much pain, it overflowed. Even his dragon recoiled, diving deep to curl up and tremble under unseen layers of the consciousness, like scolded dogs trying to escape punishment.

Hanzo wasn’t as fortunate. His legs refused to move aside buckling; halfway through the speech, he fell on his knees, just staring at the avenging angel before him and trying to breathe. Tears rolled down his face and his hands trembled. The powerful assassin was reduced to a shivering, miserable wreck.

“If that is your forgiveness,” he rasped once Genji’s voice died, “I want none of it.” Hanzo somehow pulled himself into a proper position, sitting on his heels, both his hands planted on his thighs, head bowed. “This is not forgiveness; this is torture. I have endured it for ten years, it clouded my happiest moments and turned the sweetest taste into ash in my mouth. Let it be over.” He glanced up.

“Kill me. Kill me now so we could both rest in peace! I know it is my fault, and I’m not going to hide from the blame!” Hanzo gritted his teeth but a sob still escaped. It felt like his heart was breaking. “Finish me! Let my misery be over, I-” he doubled over, fists striking the soft earth, trying to release at least a flicker of the tension that threatened to tear him apart. “I can’t take it anymore!!”

He wanted to die so badly. The eternal darkness with its soft silence and lack of emotions never seemed so tempting before.

Genji felt frozen in time, lost in a stunned vertigo that threatened to divide him from his body, let him witness the tragic scene from above rather than from within where his misery lashed out like a viper, sinking its teeth deep into his heart. The venomous grief in his heart rose to an instantaneous boil; burning him, eating him from within as he realized what he’d done with his words. Hanzo didn't want his forgiveness. Hanzo didn’t want _him_.

“You don't have to…” Genji whispered weakly. His body still trembled, seized not only by his own pain, but the agony that flowed from his brother in ceaseless, boundless torrents. A sob stuck in his throat as he looked down at Hanzo; watched his brother succumb, on his knees, to the unspeakable guilt that had wracked him for over a decade. “But I will not give you death.”

Genji stepped closer before dropping to his knees in front of his brother, mechanized hands tentative yet urgent as he sought desperately to grasp Hanzo's own. The dread instilled in his heart by Hanzo's words had taken root and spread like a poison, as if Hanzo's own guilt now wound around his soul - choking, suffocating, all while letting the body live on, untouched. This was Hanzo's pain, he realized. This was the burden he carried - and not for the first time, Genji had underestimated its power.

Genji was terrified.

“I… I can't lose you again, _anija_ ,” he breathed, his voice thick with tears. He'd never seen Hanzo like this before, not even close.

“You… you're my everything. Don't you see…” Genji’s hands had found his brother’s, and he lifted them, his grip tight as he steeled them both against the violent, riotous grief that infected them and caused their bodies to quake beneath its immense force. “D-don’t you see why it… it was here that we… that we…!”

He'd meant to implore Hanzo of the significance of the place they had come together at last, after so many long, tortured years apart. But Genji’s resolve had shattered. His grief had mingled inextricably with Hanzo's, and it was set on destruction. It greedily stole away every last vestige of control Genji had over his body, his heaving torso crumpling to rest over Hanzo’s back, still bent beneath the weight of his own agony. Genji's sobs, wild and loud and unrestrained, tore through the heavy night air; a proclamation of his misery and his deep, crushing regret. His hands, fingers threaded and clamped between Hanzo’s, hung on for dear life, anchoring himself to his brother's physical form as the dragon inside him howled and thrashed; lost, begging to be reunited with its counterparts.

He shoved him away, but the gesture lacked power, and Hanzo didn’t let his brother go far. His strong hand grasped Genji’s armored shoulders like talons, and for the first time in so many years, they looked into each other’s eyes.

“Stop that,” Hanzo pleaded, still crying. “Stop implying that I matter, that you love me- how could you? After what I did… I don’t deserve you. You were always the better of us… I’m not worthy to even touch you.” His right hand cupped Genji’s face, thumb swiping away tears. The thoughts, things he wanted to say came without any semblance of order, just struggling to get out.

“Father loved you more… You were his precious. And you were my everything. I loved you so much… I’ve never meant to hurt you! I don’t know what came over me… I should have told them to fuck themselves, I should have sent you away… You were so warm, so noble- and look at you now…!” He grasped the side of the helmet but the unrelenting metal barely picked up the force.

“You were made into this! One of those blasted machines, and it’s my fault, too! I broke you beyond repair and now I… I’ll never feel your warmth again, your skin on mine…!” Hanzo’s forehead knocked against Genji’s collarbone, and his body was wracked by violent sobs. “I don’t deserve to live! I threw away what was most precious to me, I don’t deserve to get it back…!”

Genji’s arms flung protectively around his brother’s shaking, crying form, pulling him closer and clutching him desperately against his chest. He’d stayed silent as Hanzo spoke, captivated by the tender touch at his cheek; his brother’s eyes, brimming with his pain, gazing deep into his own - such simple things, yet in that moment he'd felt like he was falling in love with his brother all over again.

A long moment passed between them as Genji held Hanzo close, his jointed hands rubbing sweetly over his brother’s broad, trembling back. “It doesn't matter,” he said at last, his voice soft and solemn, the faintest ghost of warm air against the shell of Hanzo's ear. “It doesn't matter what you ‘deserve.’ It doesn't matter what father thought.”

Genji’s hands moved to his brother's shoulders, gently lifting him to sit upright. “I'm… I'm sorry this body doesn't please you.” He struggled to maintain eye contact as his cheeks reddened in embarrassment, recalling mournfully the countless moments they shared in the past, flesh pressed so close they may as well have merged into one -  euphoric sensations now lost forever to the sands of time. 

“But I'm lucky. Without this body, I could have never done this…” ignoring the pounding in his chest, Genji leaned quickly forward and pressed the smallest, lightest of kisses against his brother’s parted lips. “...again.”


	2. Chapter 2

Time seemed to freeze before rewinding back, and Hanzo saw fifteen year old Genji with the shock of bright green hair atop his head, staring at his brother who just reached adulthood, all long dark hair and smooth chin, powerful shoulder unmarked by ink for the last summer.

The illusion only lasted for a heartbeat, and it didn’t stop Hanzo’s breath from hitching softly still, but it made him relax a little. His tear-washed eyes closed, and his arms curled around Genji’s frame as he leaned closer to return the kiss. He tasted of salt and sadness, but the contact was as gentle as it had been on that fateful night twenty years ago.

The dragons cried out with elation. Hanzo’s tattoo began to glow faintly, but not with an attack. The ethereal beasts emerged and slipped off his skin, circling the brothers eagerly and calling for their brethren.

A soft whimper hitched in Genji’s throat as his lips parted in turn, and he drew a single deep, shuddering breath against his brother’s mouth. He felt like he would melt inside the warm, safe familiarity of the powerful arms wrapped around him, and their kiss… Hanzo had returned it, was returning it still as all else around them ceased to exist.

New tears spilled from beneath long lashes; joyful tears that slid easily down over damp, scarred cheeks, joining the ones he'd shed in sadness. The dragon inside Genji roared, and he felt his body thrumming with that familiar unrestrained, ecstatic energy as the spirit emerged at last, weaving and winding between Hanzo's own. The cycle was complete once more and the dragon spirits danced together in silent harmony, reunited at last.

The faintest mechanical whir cut through the air as Genji shifted forward, moving to place his knees on either side of Hanzo's folded legs. His arms flew into motion, one snaking around Hanzo's waist, the other gliding upwards to rest at the back of his head. He pressed their bodies closer, basking eagerly in the warmth that poured from his brother’s body. Genji's mouth opened in full, and he welcomed the gentle, tentative press of Hanzo’s tongue against his own; sliding, seeking, exploring.

It felt as if they’d transcended themselves, or perhaps they’d been pushed back by the mythical soul residing in them. Guilt and resentment ceased to be in that moment, and only the overwhelming love they still felt for each other remained, despite everything that had transpired between them.

The dragons rose up into the air, savoring unrestrained freedom. Their ethereal bodies brushed against each other gently, playfully; much like Hanzo’s fingers skimming over augmented plating covering his brother’s side. Half-consciously, he remembered that Genji apologized for _his body not being good enough_ , and Hanzo never meant to imply that. Normally, he would have blamed himself, apologizing yet again for pushing Genji into a situation that forced him into a cyborg body, robbing him many of life’s pleasures - he dared to think about just how many. However, in this altered state of mind, Hanzo was determined to show that the form didn’t matter; true self had no use for it.

The kisses grew more forceful, more passionate, and deep inside there were familiar stirrings; a pleasant warmth, a lazy flame that flickered brighter with every passing minute. Hanzo gasped, breaking the contact for a moment. “Genji… my heart,” he moaned and with his eyes still closed, his lips attacked the synthetic tendons on Genji’s neck, heedless of the unusual firmness and faint artificial taste.

“H-Hanzo…!” Genji cried, caught entirely off-guard by the ravenous assault at his neck. Hanzo’s lips, his tongue sent electrified bolts of sensation straight to his loins, and he moaned loudly, unashamed. His hips bucked forward as mechanical fingers tightened their hold, forcing Hanzo’s face deeper into the crook of his neck and clinging to any purchase they could find. “ _Anija_ , please…! Ah, it's t-too much!”

Hanzo wasn't the first lover Genji had been with since his cyberization, but none of them came close to holding a candle to the intensity of the shocks and waves of pleasure reverberating through his core, held at the mercy of his brother’s attentions. Genji’s back snapped into a graceful arc, pressing himself harder, closer against Hanzo's powerful frame as he surrendered, his moans breaking into sharp, desperate sobs. He'd never felt anything like this before; somehow, this body, which he'd thought had dulled his sense of touch, had become the perfect conduit for the most mind-bending, euphoric sensations Genji had ever known.

He shivered just thinking of how he’d feel soon.

More tears fell to glide down the curve of Genji's cheeks, pushed back and rounded by the elated smile dancing over his flushed, scarred features. The tears dampened Hanzo's dark, silken hair where the metallic lines of Genji's jaw pressed hard against his brother’s head, all of his self-consciousness of his cyborg body obliterated by Hanzo's voracious onslaught.

“Too much…?” The playful growl reverberated deeply in Hanzo’s throat. “That’s not the Genji I knew for sure… He could never get enough.” His tongue lapped up the salty wetness with firm sweeps, much like a wolf he was often called fondly by the family. His hands slid down to splay out over Genji’s round buttocks, squeezing them possessively, but not violently. Next, they pulled Genji down while Hanzo rose up, aching for more contact, more sweet pressure. When he couldn’t quite find it, he wrapped an arm around his brother tightly and lowered themselves to the grass, careful to not cause injury.

Once Genji was lying on the ground, Hanzo immediately moved to cover his body with his own, claiming his younger brother’s lips with untamed hunger. “It’s been awhile since anyone called me brother… I love to hear it.” He rolled his hips and grunted from pleasure.

The dragons decided that their presence was unneeded and instead of lingering, they flew out over the pool to play tag, reacquainting themselves with the sorely missed feeling of completion. They frolicked above and under the water, their glow alighting the pond, creating a spectacular show, even if there was no one to marvel at it.

“ _Anija_ …” the word rolled easily from Genji’s tongue, his cheeks burning with eager desire. An archaic term for one's older brother, perhaps, but one that had become akin to a pet name - for as much as Hanzo loved hearing it, Genji savored every opportunity to remind them both of the unbreakable blood-bond they shared. “Fuck me, _anija_ …” The plea was soft, coy; his heavily lidded gaze filled with his lust and locked on his brother’s eyes. “I'm yours, _anija_ …”

Genji’s legs lifted to fold around Hanzo's waist, forcing their hips to grind together. A gasp tore from Genji's throat at the contact, the lewd way he could feel his brother’s cock burning through the layers of fabric that separated them. His hands reached downwards, lithe digits brushing over the outside of Hanzo’s thighs before taking a rough hold there and using the leverage to pull his brother closer. Genji's eyes rolled back, eyes fluttering shut as he arched his spine, rocking their hips together and sending new, deep waves of pleasure flooding through their bodies.

“It's so big, _anija_ …” Genji bit his lip, relishing the heat of the friction building between them. It had been so long, _so long_ and he wanted nothing more than to feel the sweet, burning warmth of their cocks pressed together, a teasing promise of what was yet to come…

 _Oh_.

Genji was pulled suddenly from his blissful haze as he remembered his reality. The reality that his own cock was gone; replaced by a synthetic replica. And yet Hanzo truly hadn't seemed to mind his body this far - maybe, just maybe, it would be fine…

“ _Anija_ , I…” the words tumbled from his mouth, his sudden nervousness more than apparent as his mechanical hand pushed shyly past the place their hips met. Trembling fingers pressed into the sides of the plating that covered his groin and, with a hiss, the covering drew back to reveal his cock - long and curved, its smooth segmented surface adorned on either side with small, bioluminescent lights. “I’m sorry, I know it's not the same, but…” Genji’s words fell short, silenced in favor of the desperate, needy plea for acceptance reflected in his dark amber eyes.

The was a momentary look of confusion on Hanzo’s face, then it disappeared without a trace, replaced by relief. Without even looking, he slipped a hand between his brother’s legs to stroke Genji reverently, his fingers dancing, seeking out the good spots, just like before. “I’m so glad,” he breathed hotly, “that we can still share this.” He pressed another kiss against his brother’s lips, then sat up.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. After a glance towards the pool and a half-smile at the dragons’ antics, Hanzo began to undress, undoing his belts and pushing them aside. His gauntlet soon joined them, then the obi, and the robe landed on the grass as well, revealing sculpted muscles and a few scars.

Before Genji could react, Hanzo moved back a little, then bent down. He cradled the artificial penis in one hand gently and began to kiss and lick it, almost worshipping the marvel of technology.

“H-Hanzo, you don't ha- aah…!” Genji was positive he'd never been this sensitive before, even in his cyborg body, as his words dissolved into a loud, shuddering moan. Every tiny touch, every tender kiss and teasing stroke of his brother’s tongue against his cock sent shocks of pleasure through his body, almost violent in the way they seized him as they coursed up and down his spine. Mechanical muscles tensed and Genji's fists slammed down at his sides against the soft earth, battling the overwhelming urge to buck and thrash beneath Hanzo’s skillful tongue.

Wrestling his wild urges in check for the moment, Genji propped himself up on his elbows where he lay, wide eyes drinking in the sight of his older brother between his legs as he lavished a decade’s worth of attention on his twitching cock. The image sent his head spinning, overwhelmed by the reality that _yes_ , this was real; that Hanzo himself was the one touching him, loving him with a distinctly passionate, ravenous hunger that only his brother possessed.

“Please,” Genji huffed as he lifted a hand, trembling fingers stroking sweetly over the stubbled skin of Hanzo's cheek. “M-more, I need…!” Genji’s actions took over where his words faltered, and he laid back, freeing both hands to grasp behind his brother's head. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he pushed Hanzo's head down hard, pressing his length fully into his brother's mouth and against the back of his throat.

The sudden intrusion made Hanzo gag; he wasn’t used to this. He pushed himself firmly away with a gasp, coughing and swallowing hard to fight off the sudden nausea with the back of his hand covering his mouth. His eyes flashed with annoyance and his hand shot out to grab Genji’s throat as a warning.

“Know your place, _little sparrow_ ,” Hanzo growled softly, fingers squeezing with just enough force to get his point across. Servicing another like this was not what the older, stronger, more respectable one of the relationship did - at least not in this kind of relationship. Hanzo’s grip soon eased though; he knew how overeager his brother was. Genji was prone to get caught up in the excitement of the situation. Hanzo ran his hand down over Genji’s front to soothe, down to his cock which he stroked slowly once or twice before reaching for the fastenings of his pants. His own erection was begging to be released and Hanzo did it with a small sigh of relief.

“Your body is cleverly made,” he murmured. “Is there anything else I should know?” While waiting for the answer, he moved closer to enclose both their members in one hand, stroking them both lazily.

Genji’s breath hitched in his throat. He knew what it was that Hanzo meant. “... Yes,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes once again. He was embarrassed of his actions, how he'd dared to act rashly upon his physical urges alone in this sacred place, even as his brother lavished his unnatural form with the attention he'd been starved of for over a decade. He would - _he had to_ \- make up for it.

Propping himself up on an elbow again, Genji's hand slid between his parted legs. He paused for a moment, a shy whimper escaping him as he watched his brother’s strong hand work them both. Like before, his fingers pressed into two small grooves at the crease of his thighs, and with another small hiss, the strip of flexible material between his cheeks slid back to reveal the tiny pucker between them, damp and glistening with his arousal.

“It's… a little different,” he said, referring to the fact that the ‘skin’ surrounding his entrance now matched the color of the sinewy synthetic muscles of his thighs, and the viscous fluid leaking from both his entrance and the tip of his cock might as well have been pouring from him in waves. “I'm… I don't know how it'll feel.”

There was fear in Genji’s eyes as he stared down at his brother - the same anxious, eager fear that filled him as it had when they joined in this place for the first time so many years ago. “I've not had anyone this way. Since we… parted. Only you, _anija_.”

Genji’s gaze fell, the color in his cheeks rising once again. It was true - though he'd found lovers through the years they'd spent apart, he hadn't allowed anyone to touch, or to even see the wet, clenched rim between his thighs that twitched along with his cock. The tips of his slender, segmented digits ghosted over his hole, drawing a tiny whimper from his throat. “I've… I've been wishing for this - _for you_ \- for so long… I'm sorry,” he said, still embarrassed of the way the new, intense sensations in his body had overwhelmed him, caused him to try and steal control when it hadn't been his, had never been his. “… I didn't mean to disrespect you…”

“Looks like it’s my turn to forgive.” Hanzo’s voice dropped down to a steady, low purr, filled with power but not threatening; merely to display his dominance. He cupped Genji’s face and leaned in for another kiss, stroking the scarred cheek with his thumb as he looked into his little brother’s eyes.

“You were always so eager to please, so excited for life. So warm and thrumming with energy. Even now… you haven’t lost that enthusiasm, that innocence. I’m so glad for it.” His lips brushed Genji’s once more. “Just don’t do it again,” he added with a small smirk, his free hand slipping between them, fingers teasing the secret entrance, moving in small circles before one digit pushed in.

In the back of Hanzo’s mind, a little voice idly wondered just who got the idea to to build a body like _this_ for Genji. Cyborg ninjas were not pleasure dolls and yet-- he silenced the noise. For the moment, he was content with the familiarity and the convenience. His finger moved without effort thanks to the lubrication down there, and something urged him to embrace the opportunity, to finally bring their bodies close, to unite them so their soul could unite as well, merge in the sacred flames of pleasure.

Hanzo added another finger, curiously testing though he was rather sure little preparation was needed. “You saved yourself for your brother… That was wise. You’re mine, Genji, my little sparrow. We belong together. I’ll make us one again, _whole_ again to honor the gods.”

Genji’s cheeks reddened further at his brother’s praise, a smile spreading across his scarred features. Nothing in the world made him happier than Hanzo’s approval, to know he'd pleased the man he idolized and loved.

“I-I love you, _anija_ …” The words were a sob on Genji’s lips as he braced himself against the writhing anticipation that coiled deep inside him. He had felt keenly his brother's finger touching, teasing at his hole, circling the entrance to the core of him that no other soul had ever been permitted to touch. “I need it, ahh- _anija!_ ”

Genji trembled beneath the sudden, intense feeling of fullness that had slammed into him hard when Hanzo’s finger slid inside at last, pressing past the tight ring of muscle and stretching him gently in preparation for what he knew was yet to come. The sensation was different from what he remembered, but, as with the rest of his body, the rippling waves of pleasure Hanzo's intrusion created surpassed the intensity of anything he'd experienced before.

When the second finger had slid in to join the first, Genji went wild, his broken, heated moans echoing through the dark, damp stillness around them. He was utterly overcome, elated that Hanzo was here, reclaiming his rightful place inside his body and assuring him that no matter what came between them, he belonged to Hanzo - forever.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Genji’s hips bucked beneath his brother’s touch, his body pleading to be filled. “I'm yours!” Genji cried, wide brown eyes lost in the stars above as he laid helpless, open and at his brother’s mercy. “Please, take me…! I need it- I need you!”

“There’s still so much you need to learn,” Hanzo chided as he pulled away to stand, to finally strip naked. He was unashamed of his body and none could blame him; his frame was chiseled by hard exercise to sculpted perfection. The only thing that seemed a little out of place was the armor on the legs - Hanzo didn’t reach to remove it.

On second thought, there was probably a very good reason for it - the ankles seemed too slender, the plates too tight-fitting and in the pale moonlight, someone equipped with enhanced vision would be able to make out faded scars lacing the skin around the knees.

Genji had watched, mesmerized as Hanzo shed his clothes until the last of his garments fell at his feet. But his focus fell to his brother’s lower legs; what he'd assumed to be a specialized pair of boots, but no - the gleaming silver appendages were attached to his body, metal merging with flesh just below Hanzo's knees.

“ _A-anija_ …” Genji was speechless, momentarily stunned by the realization that his brother had endured a brush with fate all his own - and had lived, just as he had, to tell the tale. Curious, awe-struck fingertips reached out, brushing lightly, disbelievingly over the cool metal plates fused to Hanzo's body. But the elder spared him no such indulgence.

“There is no need to beg; you’re a warrior of your own right, and a dragon.” Hanzo kneeled next to Genji and lovingly ran a hand over the cyborg’s body. “You are my younger brother, but on the battlefield, we’re equals and warriors never beg.” He flipped Genji on his side and moved to lie behind him. He pushed Genji’s leg up then dragged his hand back over the armored thigh to finally brush against the treasures waiting for him. “Are you ready?”

Genji simply nodded as his brother’s words rang muffled through his head. He was lost beneath the heady, dominant spell his brother's words brought over him, all concern vacating his mind when he felt the heavy,  familiar press of Hanzo's thick, swollen tip against his backside. “Yes, _anija_!”

A small nod acknowledged him, then Hanzo guided himself inside slowly, gritting his teeth from the wonderful tightness and slickness that engulfed him. It did feel a little different - he had his fair share of lovers as well, male and female both - but secretly, the knowledge alone that it was his beloved little brother writhing beneath him, alive and eager, made the experience perfect.

A deep grunt escaped Hanzo as he pushed in without faltering once, until he was fully sheathed. Only then did he stop to sneak an arm around Genji, and Hanzo realized he was panting and trembling subtly, his chest nearly bursting with some unnamed emotion. Finally, after so many years, he felt at peace. He felt at _home_.

“Genji,” he murmured against the hard shoulder plating. “Genji… I love you.”

“H-Hanzo!” Genji sobbed loudly, his voice breaking as the blunt tip of his brother’s cock was pushed quickly, forcefully into his body. An exquisite pain tore through him from the point they joined, and he wailed as he lost himself to the sensation. Burying his face in his elbow, Genji lifted his leg higher and pushed his hips back hard, eagerly drawing Hanzo deeper into his hot, clinging depths.

“I… I love you t-too, _anija_!” he wailed through gritted teeth, his mind flooded with memories of their first night together - how it had hurt so much, just like it did now; a divine reminder of his complete and willing subservience to the magnificent man that claimed him. His breath was coming in harsh gasps even as Hanzo’s powerful arm wrapped comfortingly around him, anchoring him against the sweet, burning fullness of being quickly stretched to his limits.

Unashamed, Genji made no effort to restrain the babbling, gasping string of sobs that flowed from him without rhythm. In that moment, he was a slave to Hanzo's desires, a willing vessel created to take his brother inside him, merging both body and soul in a powerful, sacred union only they could ever know.

Half of the ritual was completed and Hanzo, dutiful as ever, began to perform the rest. He pulled out slowly then slid back into the welcoming warmth, holding Genji tightly against his chest. The rhythm was slow at first, cautious, but picked up soon enough and settled into a steady pace. Not too fast, nor too slow, it ensured that both of them would enjoy it, sinking deeper into that divine state of mind when two souls became one. For them, it wasn’t just an empty phrase; every time Hanzo and Genji shared a moment of deep intimacy, they were able to experience a joy unique to few.

Hanzo, always being the silent one of them, trained for cold composure and mute endurance, did not whimper, but he delighted in his little brother’s pleasure-filled voice. Perhaps it was always meant to be… The elders just couldn’t see it. Perhaps Genji, with his much kinder, warmer nature; his generosity, his love for life was to contrast Hanzo’s chill; his silent, unchanging path he walked with steely resolve, unable and unwilling to oppose tradition while letting time pass and ignoring how the world morphed into new colors and shapes. Maybe they were meant to rule together but neither of them realized.

The air seemed to heat up on the riverbank as the brothers continued the ancient dance. Their dragons were affected as well; their games turned more serious, sensual, the two blue spirits  wrapping themselves around their green brother, teasing and caressing him much like Hanzo did, his fingers mapping out lines and gaps in his brother’s armor, breathing heavily against Genji’s neck.

Genji’s eyes fluttered shut beneath the intoxicating spell of his brother’s perfectly timed cadence of thrusts. He felt so full, so complete, his body opening easily even as he writhed against the arms that held him tightly in place. The pain inside him faded as he was gently pulled and pushed apart, giving way to a sweet warmth that fluttered a little more strongly each time the fat, spongy tip of Hanzo’s cock nudged that special spot nestled deep inside him. Hanzo knew just where it was, knew the precise angle and pressure required to leave Genji a breathless, incoherent mess within minutes.

Spine arching into a beautiful bow, Genji rocked languidly back to meet his brother's thrusts. The vents at his shoulders clicked and hissed as his cyborg’s body worked to keep him cool, the heat of their union coiling deep inside him and thrumming through his veins. His hands, trembling just as they'd done in his human form, scrabbled upwards to press over Hanzo’s as they explored each new angle and contour of Genji's body and held him tight against the hard, rippling muscles in his chest.

The comforting warmth of Hanzo's breath against his neck, the tickle of soft hair against his armor made Genji gasp again and again. Already he could feel himself coming undone, every whisper of sensation inexplicably magnified beyond anything he'd expected; almost as if he could feel each individual synapse firing in his mind as his synthetic nerves were set alight. He wasn't at all coherent of the string of endearments he'd begun to mutter under his breath between his long, needy moans as Hanzo submitted him easily with long, steady strokes.

Hanzo still loved to hear all of it, but there were other things Genji did well with his mouth. Hanzo gently seized his brother’s chin and pulled him closer for a kiss; the boy was always flexible, the new body probably only enhanced that ability.

Their tongues danced and their bodies moved in unison, chasing their sweet completion. Any negativity that wrapped around Hanzo’s soul like rusted chains disappeared for the time being, and only the good things remained: love, relief, devotion. The past ceased to matter; only the here and now was important; the pleasure coiling in his guts, urging him to speed up. So he did, slamming into Genji fast and hard, body tensing up and deep moans escaping him. The moment of their perfect reunion was drawing nearer with every rapid heartbeat.

“H-how close are you?” Hanzo rasped into Genji’s ear. “You need my hand?” They almost always came the same time, but sometimes a little courtesy was needed.

“Fuck-  _anija_ , please…!” Genji gasped against his brother’s lips. His cock was weeping as it bounced against his stomach and it ached, craving the firm grasp of Hanzo's hand to gift him his release. He was already so close, and he didn’t _need_ his brother’s hand so much as he burned with desire for any extra contact Hanzo would give him.

Genji’s hot, slick depths spasmed and twitched around his brother's thick cock, his release approaching quickly. He'd truly lost all control, had accepted his purpose and his place as he gave all of himself to Hanzo, placing his total trust in the man slamming him harder by the second. And the sounds he was making - Genji thought he might come from those sounds alone, so unaccustomed to hearing his stoic brother vocalize his pleasure. And to Genji, those sounds were the highest praise he could ever receive.

The breathless chuckle was icing on the cake. “I could never deny you, Genji…” Strong fingers wrapped around the artificial cock and Hanzo shifted into a new position, to finally finish the job. “Don’t come until I tell you,” Hanzo whispered, and his hips snapped up, driving him as deep into the willing body as was possible.

It was a matter of minutes now. They were both close to the peak, just a few steps… the anticipation made them both quiver. They knew how it felt, to embrace each other and jump and _fall, fall, fall_ , until the clouds cushioned them and the fire of their joining turned embers, keeping them warm for long afterwards.

“Genji…!” Hanzo groaned, trying hard to not work the cock in his hand in time with his thrusts, otherwise his poor little brother would’ve never had the chance to last longer than several heartbeats.

“Genji, my love-” Hanzo was losing his rhythm, the pleasure pulling him taut. He threw his head back and closed his eyes. “Come for me, come now, ah!”

“Gods, _Hanzo!_ ” His brother’s order instantly shoved Genji to his peak. He'd been floating there, suspended in time by Hanzo's order, the physical sensations inside him only held in check by his divine desire to obey his older brother; to submit to anything, everything the older man commanded. His release slammed into him and Genji screamed, his hips bucking erratically as the last vestiges of control he held over his body were stolen away by the godlike man pumping ruthlessly into him. He was lost, and yet he'd never felt more at home, enraptured by Hanzo’s power and the limitless, unconditional love flowing between them.

Thick ropes of semen burst from the tip of Genji's cock as it twitched and throbbed in Hanzo's hand. He felt as if his entire body would erupt, his soul unfurling beneath Hanzo’s masterful motions into glorious, euphoric bloom. His ecstasy only increased inside him as orgasm continued to seize him, his pleasure peaking again and again as Hanzo expertly worked him, played him until he'd been reduced to nothing but a trembling, incoherent creature sobbing weakly in his brother’s arms.

At the same time, Hanzo came as well, flooding his brother’s insides with his essence in powerful spurts. The orgasm crushed down on him like a tsunami, crushing him with its unrestrained might, shredding his skin, flesh and bones until nothing remained-

And then, time stopped.

It was but a few heartbeats, but it seemed to last forever; in their moment of shared ecstasy, their souls touched. Genji’s vibrant green light mingled with Hanzo’s calm blue; and they thought, felt, breathed as one. They were the same, sharing joy and sorrow alike; a single entity finally born again, breathing in sweet air for the first time in so many long years. Its existence was brief, but enough to fulfil its purpose. The divine soul split into two again, separate consciousnesses settling back into their respective bodies.

Hanzo realized that his fingers were aching. He lay pressed tight against Genji, his cock just giving its last twitches, and he was grabbing the chestplate so hard it hurt. He relinquished his death grip, but didn’t feel like moving. He just closed his eyes and breathed in the cool night air, the smell of the water, crushed grass and the metallic-synthetic aroma of Genji’s body.

Genji rolled his hips luxuriantly back, pressing the firm swell of his ass hard against his brother’s groin. He felt so full, even as Hanzo’s cock softened inside him. The warmth of Hanzo’s semen coating his insides sent a shiver up his spine, and he sighed softly. At last, he was complete - they were complete. Genji had felt it too - the brief moment during which their souls had touched, affirming once again everything he'd ever known to be true. He and Hanzo were meant for one another, meant to be together no matter what forces the universe tried to wedge between them. Each was at the mercy of a force greater than himself; a force that transcended even death.

“ _Anija_ …” Genji whispered after a long moment, silent but for the heavy, panting breaths they took in the wake of their union. His ravaged hole spasmed around his brother’s cock as he twisted to look back, heavy brown eyes locking on Hanzo’s, so similar to his own. Genji's words escaped him. Yes, he'd felt it too.

A small, knowing smile spread across Genji’s swollen lips as he pressed his nose against his brother’s cheek, nuzzling it softly. He breathed deeply, taking in the sweet scent of Hanzo’s skin. It hadn't changed at all from what he remembered, and his heart fluttered as he reveled in the soft scratching sensation of Hanzo's beard - a new addition to his brother’s appearance since they'd last joined that Genji found he was quite fond of.

Genji’s attention was drawn briefly from the warmth of his brother’s skin by a soft pressure at his front - the long, lithe body of an ethereal blue dragon had slid up against him, wrapping itself around them. Genji's dragon, too, had joined them; pressing itself sweetly, protectively against Hanzo's back.

“Infernal bunch of beasts, the lot of you,” Hanzo grumbled, but his voice, still thick and soft with post-coital drowsiness had no bite at all. He scratched his own dragon’s chin then carefully pulled himself free and flopped on his back, nearly trapping Genji’s dragon beneath him. Thankfully, the spirit was fast enough to get away.

Hanzo took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh. Their coupling was wonderful, every moment of it, but now with the divine soul sated, his own misery started to creep back in. He was reminded with overwhelming clarity that he and Genji were essentially one, but it merely made the pain sharper.

His dragons sensed their master’s anguish and curled up against him, trying to comfort him. Hanzo absent-mindedly patted their heads, briefly wondering how long it had been he last called for them - too long.

Finally, Hanzo turned his head to the side, to look at his brother. “Genji, I-” He didn't know what to say.

Genji shivered as his brother withdrew from inside him at last, whimpering softly as he felt their mingled fluids streaming from where they’d pooled inside him. He could feel the darkness returning, looming at the edges of Hanzo's consciousness, as if on some level, their minds remained connected, flitting and dancing in the divine wake of two souls reunited at last. “Hanzo…” he whispered, bringing a hand to rest on his brother's cheek, his thumb gliding over his damp, flushed skin. “This is all that matters. _We_ … are all that matters.”

Genji paused, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. He'd have been lying if he said he didn't feel the sting of so many years lost, divided by the wounds inflicted upon him by his beloved older brother. But his mind and heart were in undeniable agreement - that truly, their past was just that - and all that mattered was the journey forward, together; and whatever that journey held in store for them.

“Please… promise me, _anija_ ,” he pleaded between soft kisses pressed against Hanzo's cheek. “Promise me you won't leave... Promise me that you'll trust… trust in us, to do this…” He didn't know what ‘this’ was just yet, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was they did it together.

With another, shuddering sigh, Hanzo closed his eyes. “I don’t know. I want us to be together. But ‘together’ was the clan… And that is gone. I don’t know what to do.” He curled an arm around Genji’s shoulders. “I’m glad you can still… enjoy things you were so fond of, even in this body. But when I look at you, I’m reminded that it is my fault that you have to live like this. How could I ever forgive myself…?” He swallowed hard.

“For ten years, I had nightmares of cutting you down… I chased after my lost honor, thinking I could reclaim it if I fell in battle - but I’m still here. Now I know that you still live and I know you wouldn’t want me dead... but what is there for me, then? I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost.” Hanzo threw an arm over his eyes to conceal the tears rolling down his temples. He hardly ever admitted any weakness, but right then, he craved help; a sign to guide him more than anything. Until this, his sole purpose was chasing his own demise, but with Genji’s return, it ceased to be an option.

A sharp pang of guilt stabbed through Genji’s heart, and his blood felt as if it had run cold. He wasn't blameless for their present situation, far from it. The only reason he'd been allowed to live was that he'd agreed to destroy his family’s empire; systematically dismantle the foundation of his brother's singular purpose, the calling for which he'd been groomed, prepared for since the day he was born.

Genji shifted onto his stomach, draping one powerful leg over his brother’s thighs. Pressing their bodies close, he placed soft kisses over the length of Hanzo's forearm covering his face as he threaded their fingers together. Silently, Genji contemplated Hanzo's hopelessness, his lack of direction, and his thoughts immediately shifted to Overwatch, and the choice he'd given Hanzo the morning they'd met again for the first time after so many long years had passed.

“Hanzo…” Genji whispered, trying in vain to conceal the fear tainting the edges of his voice. He was terrified, truly terrified of revealing the price he'd paid to live on in the body he'd been given, knowing it would likely break his brother's heart all over again. “You remember, the last time we met… I'd asked you to pick a side.” It was a statement more than a question, posed if for no other reason than to test the waters, to gauge Hanzo’s reaction before he dared say any more.

“I remember.” Hanzo pulled his brother close, guiding Genji’s head into the crook of his neck. Back then, they used to nap like this. “I wasn’t sure what you meant. The world is always changing.”

Genji relaxed into the comforting familiarity of his brother’s warmth, his eyes falling shut against the soft skin of his neck. “Overwatch, Hanzo.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, heavy with fearful resolve. “It was Overwatch that gave me this body.”

Genji fell silent, the gravity of his words all but crushing him alive as he laid with his brother, bracing himself for his inevitable rage. Overwatch’s involvement in the fall of the Shimada Clan wasn't widely known, but it wasn't exactly a secret, either - to the right people. Given Hanzo knew what Genji suspected he did, it wouldn't be difficult to put two and two together.

Indeed, as the moments flew by, a tension could be felt building in Hanzo. Way too wrapped up in his grief and misery, he never thought about what happened in depth. Even if he did, he was missing crucial pieces of the picture, but they were clicking to place rapidly now.

“You have been with Overwatch,” he muttered, staring down at Genji. “It was-- you. We’ve wondered-- it was you all along!” He brushed Genji off and stood, breathing labored, hands curling into fists. “It was you who helped them to weaken the business! We suspected everybody, we turned against each other, because it had to be someone with a lot of inside information… It was you who orchestrated our downfall!” He turned on his heels, clutching his head. “It was you all along… Our power, influence, wealth… you destroyed what we’ve built for centuries! Your father’s legacy… my birthright! It’s all gone thanks to you…!”

Genji winced as he was pushed aside, a white-hot flash of fear rippling through his gut. He couldn't lose Hanzo, not again, but this wasn't right. Grabbing his faceplate and clicking it into place, Genji leapt to his feet and faced his brother.

“Can you truly stand there and blame me, Hanzo?” Genji inquired, his tone earnest; soft at first. Though he could understand his brother's rage, he couldn't grasp what logic Hanzo could possibly apply that would place the blame solely on his shoulders - not after the part Hanzo had played in their fate. “Can you blame me for refusing to die for a legacy _you knew_ I despised, a legacy that would see me murdered by my own brother without so much as a second thought?” Genji knew his words would sting. He didn't care.

“I thought I hated you, Hanzo. And I certainly hated the elders who left you without a choice - all for money, for power! I didn't like it, but you know I'd never have dreamt of doing what I did; what Overwatch had me do, if it hadn't been for the beliefs _your_ attempt on my life made clear to me at last - if I didn't truly believe I was ridding our home of a scourge… A scourge that destroyed countless lives, countless families so that we might live in luxury, blind to it all!” Genji paused, clenched fists trembling at his sides as he stared Hanzo down from beneath the green glow of his visor. “A scourge that would see me destroyed, _anija_. Stolen from you forever… and by your own hand.”

“I’m not blaming you!” Hanzo bellowed, eyes blazing. His fingers curled into talons, as if he wanted to reach for Genji’s throat… but the motion faltered, and Hanzo’s arms fell, suddenly powerless. He looked away. “I would have done the same in your place. But the Clan was family and my purpose… the only thing I ever knew, was ever permitted to care for. We were criminals, and we were raised to be just that. Except that you shook it off like a dog shakes off water.” He folded his arms with a huff. “You and your buddies did a lousy job, anyway… The legal businesses, the secret accounts still remain, and the arms dealing was merely taken over from us by some gang… Nothing ever changed.”

Genji was glad for the mask hiding his dumbfounded expression as he stared, speechless, at his brother. He should have known it was impossible to take out the Shimada Clan for good, knowing first-hand just how deep its roots ran. And ultimately, he couldn't say he was truly surprised. “I suppose it doesn't matter anyways. I'm free of it at last. But you…” Genji’s tone darkened as he stepped closer, until he was close enough that Hanzo's features were illuminated in the green light that shone from his mask. “Nothing did change, it seems.”

Genji couldn't hide his disappointment that Hanzo’s involvement with the Clan had apparently endured, even after the unimaginable tragedy it had brought upon them. A nauseous feeling worked its way into Genji’s gut, sickened by the fact that Hanzo simply couldn't resist the Clan’s intoxicating allure.

He had to know how deep it went. “Do you wish to return now, Hanzo?” Genji asked, struggling to conceal the nervousness that threatened to shake his voice. “Do you intend to reclaim what is yours?”

Astonishingly, Hanzo’s powerful frame relaxed. He cupped Genji’s helmet and bumped their foreheads together. “You understand nothing, little sparrow. For ten years, I wanted to die. And now that that option was taken from me, where should I turn? Do you realize how much of a tool I was?” He swallowed, the admission bitter on his tongue. “You flew away to find your freedom; your feathers were ripped out but you grew new ones and built a nest, while I was kept collared, even if I got off the leash. I was wandering without a pack, lost and alone. The Clan is important; it is tied to the dragons. We keep them alive through our bloodline. I’m a single-minded beast with only one purpose at a time. And I do want to reclaim our glory and make sure we live on.” Hanzo looked up, searching Genji’s eyes behind the visor, his own gaze uncertain.

“But maybe… maybe I could do things differently. Glory does not only rise from death… it blossoms with life as well.”

Genji shivered, the dragon’s soul within him perceiving the gravity of Hanzo's words while his mind was left stunned. Silent tears he never felt slid down his cheeks and he raised his arms numbly, draping them over Hanzo’s shoulders and clinging to him as if he were afraid Hanzo might dematerialize on the spot.

“ _Anija_ … th-this is… you are…” Genji fumbled for the words to say as he pressed his face hard against the crook of Hanzo's neck, all but melting into the sweet heat he found there. “This is all I ever wanted.”

Genji choked back a sob as childhood memories flooded in; memories of wishing more than anything that somehow, some way, he could convince Hanzo to run away with him, to leave it all behind as they spread their wings and forged their own path - just them against the world.

“Would you… would you come with me, Hanzo? I know it's… it's a lot to ask, but… Overwatch has begun recalling its agents, and I don't know the whole of what's going on just yet, but… But I've avoided the call for too long, and I think that together, we… we could do a lot of good.”

“Don’t even try to deny that this was your intention from the very start,” Hanzo huffed, curling his arms around Genji. “I have lent you my fangs… Now lend me your wings. I’ll come with you. I don’t know how it’ll work out… But I’ll try, for our sake, and the Clan’s, and the dragons’.” He laughed when the aforementioned beasts began to circle them again, radiating light and joy. 

“Yes, yes, you insufferable noodles… we hunt again, and this time, with pride.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> For more, check us out on tumblr at: emeraldscholar.tumblr.com & khateeah.tumblr.com


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